Distraction
by Kimagure
Summary: Marcus Flint pays the Weasley family an unexpected visit...PW/MF slash.


Okay, so I'm in a pissy mood, this has been on my hard drive for ages…I like it, but the ending bites. *shrugs* 

JKR owns Harry Potter and all affiliated characters. 

*****

Distraction

*****

"Look, I don't know what the Twins have on you that made you come tonight…but I apologize for their behavior." Percy's quiet, nervous words settled over Marcus like the old scratchy wool blanket his father used to tuck him in with when he was sick a lifetime ago. The tone was familiar, but only in that annoyingly suffocating sort of way. 

"What makes you think Tweedle-dumb and Tweedle-dumber have anything on me?" He asked in a disinterested voice before taking a sip of the butterbeer from the glass he'd filched from the Weasley's kitchen despite the protests of Molly Weasley. He had suspicions as to the Twins' motives for inviting him, nothing conclusive as of yet, but he had something of an indication. But quite frankly, he didn't really care why they'd done it. All that really mattered to him, was turning the situation to his advantage. 

"So they just cordially asked you to come and have dinner with us, and you happily accepted? I wasn't born yesterday." Percy sounded bitter, but then, to Marcus' ears, the redhead almost always sounded bitter. Sometimes, he wondered if maybe Percy wasn't permanently sucking on lemons for all that he could sour almost anyone's good mood. 

Good thing for him that he didn't have a good mood to sour. 

"Well, whatever my reasons for coming, I don't see what business of yours it is." He managed a sneer over the edge of the cup. It would take more than a few short sentences to explain himself and his reasons, and even if Percy were willing to sit and listen patiently, Marcus didn't feel like defending himself to what he knew would be disbelief. "Maybe I just wanted to see the Weasleys in all their happy clichéd glory for my own eyes." He threw out with a smirk as he walked off the porch and headed across the lawn. He didn't wait to see if Percy would follow him, he knew the redhead wouldn't be very far behind. If for no other reason than to make sure that Marcus didn't do anything of an unsavory nature on the property. 

"You can't possibly be serious." Percy scoffed as Marcus drew up to a stop at the edge of a workshop near the property line. Sparing Percy a quick glance, he deliberately placed the half empty glass on an old rotting window sill. Almost immediately, Percy snatched it up and Marcus fought to keep an amused smile off his face at the almost unconscious action. Instead though, he merely lifted an eyebrow at Percy's scowl, before calmly pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. "You came here on a whim? Just out of curiosity? I don't believe you…"

"I know that as former head boy and current Ministry assistant extraordinaire, this might be a bit of a shocker…but I don't particularly give a damn if you believe me or not." Which was something of a lie. But it was a lie that served its purpose, he supposed. In the broad scope of things, it was hard to detect this little untruth in the mountain of false claims and sinister deceptions he'd already made over the course of dinner. His mother, way back before she'd split, used to say that he'd come out of the womb a pathological liar. 

Nice to know he was still living up to her every expectation. 

They sat in an uncomfortable silence, watching as the sun slowly set over the horizon. Sparing a glance at Percy out of the corner of his eye, he glared. It was just like Percy to not give him the satisfaction of a retort. What was the fun of verbally jabbing someone where you knew it would hurt, if they didn't try and hurt you back? Prat that he was though, Percy was just like this. Withdrawing instead of fighting back. The fucking idiot was perfectly willing to let everyone step all over him, from his worst enemies to his own fucking family. 

After all, he had eyes. He'd seen and heard the things that went on at a typical—well, maybe a bit atypical since his presence seemed to put a strain most of their manners—Weasley family dinner. For all of Molly Weasley's fussing over Percy, the rest of the family had no qualms about taking the occasional cheap pot shot and seeing if they could draw blood. 

And really, Marcus couldn't say that he faulted them much for their barbed, thinly veiled insults or their not so subtle put downs. There was just something infuriating about the way that Percy reacted. How many times had Marcus 'roughed' the redhead up when they'd been in school together because of it? Percy's non-reaction simply invited more abuse. In some ways it was the best come back of all, because in his oh so superior way, Percy let you know without saying a word that whatever it was that you'd done to him, it wasn't worth the effort to retaliate. _You_ weren't worth the time and energy it took to get angry and snap back.

Marcus used to punch him, if just to wipe that look of indifference completely off his face. 

"So…for an all important ministry official, I find it kind of odd that you still are shacking it up here in bumfuck nowhere with dear old Ma and Pa. What? You got some sort of sick Oedipus complex going on or something? She do the trick for you?" Feeling infinitely more comfortable on familiar ground, he smirked as Percy's faced turned a pleasant shade of bright brick red. 

"It's more economically sound to stay here at home for a few more years. I'm slowly saving up enough money for a place of my own. It's not a very good market out there right now, you know. With the rumors of You-Know-Who and with…with what happened at the Triwizard competition, people are scared. It takes a lot of blunt to get a decent sort of place to live these days." Percy managed in a somewhat calm, detached voice. Marcus clenched his fists and slowly counted to ten under his breath in order to resist the urge to make Weasley bleed. 

"How…pragmatic of you." Marcus managed before taking in one last drag of his cigarette and flicking the butt across the lawn. "But really, Percy, let's be truthful," he leaned over conspiratorially, "your Mum, she gives good head, doesn't she?" Percy's eyes flashed for a moment and Marcus felt a flash of triumph as hurt flickered on the edges of the redhead's brown eyes. 

"Fuck you." The words were whispered quietly, and without much heat behind them. Percy turned away, glass still in hand, and walked into the workshop leaving Marcus staring dumbly after him. Feeling vaguely sick to his stomach, he managed to plaster the sneer back on his face before he followed the redhead into the dingy quarters. His mother used to say that the imp of the perverse had taken over his soul as a baby, turning him into the little shit that he'd become. 

Even now, it was hard to disagree with her assessment. He never could seem to leave well enough alone, and he always had to take it that extra step. 

"That's it? That's all you can say? God, you Gryffindors really _are_ fucking pathetic." Crossing his arms over his chest he glowered long and hard at Percy's back as once again, the redhead refused to rise to the barb. Mr. High and Mighty Percy couldn't be bothered to descend from his self righteous throne to mingle with the rest of the commoners. Bastard couldn't even be bothered to look at him. 

"This is so like you, Marcus." 

So it wasn't exactly a sharp edged zinger, but it was something, Marcus decided with a frown as he watched Percy circle the silver colored convertible sitting in the middle of the workshop. As far as insults went, Marcus suspected it was the best Percy could come up with since the redheaded prick seemed to have something permanently shoved up his ass, preventing him from interacting like a normal human being with the rest of society. 

"Aim to please, Weasley." He gave a mock bow. There was a soft, weary sigh, and then without any preface, Percy pulled open the door to the convertible and plopped down in the passenger seat, shoulders leaning in slightly, and giving off that whole world weary look that bothered Marcus more than he was willing to admit. 

Not to be outdone himself, Marcus arrogantly strode over to the opposite side of the car, flung the door open and thumped down on his seat, propping his feet up on the dashboard as he crowded Percy's space. "So is this the same car Potter—"

"No." Percy interrupted curtly, giving Marcus' feet an ineffectual shove. "Do you mind?" 

"Why no, not at all." Marcus smiled as he crowded Percy even further. "Obviously these muggle contraptions aren't made to fit people of wizarding proportions."

"Speak for yourself. The rest of us are tiny in comparison." Percy's delicate sniff as he gave Marcus' legs another shove, struck a raw nerve. This time Percy seemed to be the one uncomfortable with the silence as Marcus focused a cold sneer on him. In fact, Marcus noted in a gleeful sort of way, his gaze seemed to be unnerving Percy more than a little as the redhead squirmed slightly in his seat. "Look, you're just not exactly short, okay? I honestly meant nothing by it." 

"So, what you're really saying," Marcus said in a deceptively lazy voice as he looked at Percy with hooded eyes, "is that you're in with Potter. I'm just this hulking monstrosity sent to terrify small children and women." He knew his menacing smile was not reassuring Percy in the slightest as he watched the redhead swallow convulsively. "Maybe you want a demonstration of just how brutish I can be?" 

"Jesus." Marcus tried to mask his surprise as Percy glared at him nervously, anger flashing in his eyes. "Why do you have to make everything so fucking personal? Have you _looked_ at Potter lately? There are house elves that get bigger than he is. Of _course_, you look huge to him. And I _never_ said you looked brutish." Percy retorted vehemently, throwing Marcus off. 

"Fine." He said finally, trying to look nonchalant, but knowing at the same time that he was failing miserably. "My mistake." The silence descended again, and this time it was his turn to squirm. Damn Percy for being so fucking reasonable. Didn't the prat ever lose his temper? Would it be asking too fucking much for Percy to be human? The golden boy of his year, and mister impossibly perfect. Inhaling the second hand cigarette smoke had probably given him heart palpitations, the goody-good. 

Being around Percy seemed to bring out the absolute worst in him. Which only proved a few more of his mother's theories. Evil and good obviously did not mix, and when juxtaposed against each other, it was hard to ignore the difference between the two of them. Seeing Percy look so prim and proper and perfect made Marcus want to commit grand larceny and flaunt it openly in his face. 

"Why did you really come, Marcus?" 

"You want the truth?" 

"Well yes, of course I want the truth."

"They told me to accept. Said it couldn't hurt to do some reconnaissance on you lot since you always seem to be stirring up trouble." Marcus smirked, knowing that Percy would take the bait offered him and jump to his usual conclusions. Just like everyone else. Something about seeing the former Prefect fall into such half truths gave Marcus some satisfaction. 

"So you did it, then. You really sided with _them_." The disgust on Percy's face was obvious. Now this was more like it, he couldn't help but think. Even if it was by deception, he was getting Percy to react with something other than his usual stuffiness and condescension. 

"Sure. Why not? They pay well at least."

"Money? You're doing this for the _money_?" 

"Oh don't get all high and mighty about it. Lots of people do it for the money." Marcus gave a genuine smile this time at the utterly horrified look on Percy's face. How could people _not_ lie when this was the result? In less than five minutes, he'd managed to get Percy more worked up than all the Weasleys combined had managed to during the course of dinner. 

"So…so you don't care who gets hurt in the process?" Percy's words with hoarse with anger, and it was all Marcus could do to hold back his obvious amusement at having ruffled Percy's pretentious feathers. 

"Not really. It's a living." Marcus smirked back. 

Percy's fist came practically out of nowhere, and Marcus reassured himself that the only reason the redhead managed to get the punch in was because he'd been taken completely off guard by it. Percy simply was above such base and common things as brawls or hitting. Just the _idea _of the pompous ass hitting _anyone_ was laughable. 

"How can you sit there like that?! Like you don't give a fuck about who you run over in your rise to glory." Marcus growled as he pulled his feet off the dashboard. Of all the fucking hypocritical things to say…"Is this just like some game to you? Playing with people's lives, _destroying_ them like they were nothing? Who the hell do you think you are?" 

"Fuck you, who do you think _you_ are? You manipulate people's lives just as efficiently as I do." Marcus grabbed the front of Percy shirt and pulled back a fist. "Who gave you the right to sit up in judgment on everyone else? That's just the Gryffindor way, isn't it. You think you're simply above it all, but we both know that's not the truth. In fact, if memory serves me right, you aided and abided Crouch, did you not? So what gives you the right to point fingers at anyone else, you fucker?" He snarled, distantly aware of Percy's pale face and the way the redhead flinched at the words. 

The silence drew out once again, and Marcus waited impatiently for a rebuttal, a denial, something conceited and self righteous and utterly Percy. 

"Well?" Percy's eyes were steady as they looked up at him somewhat defiantly. 

"Well what, you asshole?" 

"Well are you going to fucking hit me or not?" Percy spat angrily. Just as angry, Marcus let go and shoved him back. "What the hell's the matter with you?" Percy snarled, taking Marcus slightly by surprise. Usually Percy was the soul of timidity. All it had taken in school was a few well aimed punches, and Percy had learned to avoid him. The Percy he knew and loved to torment, did _not_ ask for more when all was said and done. 

"What you want me to hit you?" He snarled, hating the confusion that was swimming through his head. 

"What? You don't want to anymore? Come on," Percy wheedled, and Marcus hated the sound, "you know you want to. What's a few hits to a Death Eater. Go on and make me bleed." 

"Get the fuck away from me." He'd meant for the words to sound a lot more forceful and not quite so uncertain, not that they seemed to have any effect on Percy. 

"Don't you want to be the one to reign down the judgment? You think I'm deaf? I can hear the jealousy in your voice, okay. I heard it in every goddamn word you said at dinner, in ever snide comment and sarcastic reply. You want to take a swipe at me? Go ahead. We both know I deserve it." It was only then that the self disgust in Percy's voice penetrated his conscious. 

Damn the bastard to hell for turning it all around like this. All he'd wanted to do was push a couple of buttons, not trigger a fucking meltdown.

"Get a grip. I'm not going to hit you. Shit, I got over that years ago, you prat." His nervous words seemed to deflate Percy, and sinking back into his seat, the fight seemed to go right out of the redhead. "I work freelance for the Daily Prophet, you moron. I'm not a Death Eater." 

"But you said—"

"I never said anything. You jumped to that conclusion all on your lonesome." 

"You can't possibly…I read the paper everyday. Your name's never in there. Nice try, Flint." Percy crossed his arms and looked out across the workshop, avoiding Marcus' eyes. 

"What you think I'm crazy? I use a pseudonym. The only people who hire Slytherins right out of Hogwarts are either the Death Eaters themselves or the Quidditch teams." Frowning as he took a second to glance at Percy, who was still staring at some unknown point of interest on the far wall, Marcus leaned over and flicked the redhead's ear. The look of pure annoyance that Percy shot him sent relief flooding through Marcus, and managing a sarcastic grin he leaned back into his seat, throwing his hands behind his head. Satisfied that he now had Percy's full attention, Marcus simply returned the redhead's irritated gaze. 

"I…" Percy lapsed back into silence. 

"You…" Marcus encouraged in his usual discouraging way. "You what? You want to shag my mum instead? I dunno, Perce…You might have to do some fast talking, and that's if you can even find her. You'd better stick to yours. She's nicer." 

"I hate that I let you get to me like this." 

"So why do you let me do it?" 

"What?" 

"Why do you let me do it, huh, Perce? Seriously." Marcus leaned over, crowding Percy's space once more. "Aww, c'mon. You can tell me."

"Sod off." The nervous look was back there in Weasley's eyes again. This time, Marcus managed a smirk as he watched them fixate on his lips, and saw the telltale beginnings of the infamous Weasley blush starting there on the tips of Percy's ears. So he had been right about the Twins' motivations. Although god only knew how two losers like that ever managed to figure out something as complex as this…It must have taken all two of the brain cells between them to put together. 

"You're a real piece of work, you know." Roughly grabbing the sides of pretentious Percy's ministry robes, Marcus hauled him up and kissed with every bit of frustration, confusion, astonishment…and affection he'd ever felt for the over bearing prick. 

And damned if the goody-good didn't return it for all he was worth… 


End file.
